Backwards
by SenatorSolo
Summary: What if the Sorting Hat had it backwards?


A/N: I will update this story once a week due to limited internet access (probably every Tuesday). The rating is K to start, but it could possibly get higher as the story progresses. As always, thank you for reading and I would love to hear from you.

**Chapter 1**

An 11-year old boy with perfectly combed and styled blonde hair was called forward to take his place beneath the hat that would determine his future. His family had a very specific idea of where that future was headed – the end result being the initiation of the boy into something akin to a cult, a cult that worshipped arguably the most dangerous and evil man in the history of the world. However, when the boy pictured his future, he did not picture himself on his knees bowing to a mysterious figure in a black cloak. No, that is not what he envisioned for himself. He envisioned a future where he was an important businessman, making lots of money every year to buy anything he could ever dream of. Of course, that's what most 11-year old boys wanted for their future. Draco Malfoy, for that was his name, walked forward to the Sorting Hat and didn't know whether to fear for his safety or jump for joy when the hat yelled out "Gryffindor!"

A boy who appeared to be quite the opposite of Draco was eventually called up to have his turn with the Sorting Hat as well. He had bright green eyes, long, unruly black hair, and a unique lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. The moment the hat touched his head, is belted out "Slytherin!" The boy slinked over to the Slytherin table, not looking like he cared much for which house he was to be placed in. The reputation for Slytherin was not one that many of the other students cared for, but the boy didn't seem to mind that the table almost reeked with dark magic. Of course, this student was raised in a muggle household where magic was seen as a fantasy and almost a taboo subject. His name was Harry Potter.

Twelve other students were sat beneath the hat and had their future decided for them, the last two being Ronald Weasley and Blaise Zabini, but Draco did not pay much attention as Ronald sat down across from him and Blaise joined the scarred boy at the Slytherin table. He was too busy trying to determine how his father would react to his being placed in Gryffindor. His whole family had come out of Slytherin, or even worse, graduated from Durmstrang, with the exception of a few distant cousins who Draco knew nothing about. His father was sure to be furious and would probably attempt to contact the headmaster to get Draco moved to Slytherin, and of course his mother would follow suit, because she always did what Lucius wanted, and usually wanted the same. Draco wondered if -

"Welcome, welcome," a magically enhanced voice called across the Great Hall, "I am Professor Dumbledore, the humble headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There is always a time for speech making, but I do not want to bore you while your stomachs are awaiting delectable yummies." There was a pause as all of the students in the hall looked at the professor, eyes wide and stomachs rumbling. "Well, what are you waiting for! Eat!"

A large feast filled table in front of Draco. There were pitchers of pumpkin juice and butterbeer, (for it was a special occasion), there was steak and kidney pudding, shepherd's pie, roast beef, diced potatoes seasoned with rosemary and lemon, and oven-roasted cod with asparagus. Draco could hardly take it in. The desserts looked even better. There was a simple chocolate cake, an almond tart, and large amounts of ice cream. He hardly knew where to start.

"Urm, excuse me." It was the red-headed kid sitting across from him. "Can you hand me the roast beef? I think I can fit some of it here on my plate." Draco thought that was unlikely, but handed him the platter nonetheless.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, as he handed it over.

"I'm Ron," said the boy. "This is my brother George." He motioned to the larger red-haired boy sitting next to him.

"And I'm Fred," said the boy on his other side, his plate also stuffed with various dishes.

"We're twins!" they proclaimed.

Dinner passed rather quickly as Draco got to know the boys sitting around him. He couldn't help but notice that they all were wearing rather shabby robes that looked secondhand. He wondered if all people in Gryffindor were poor, but looking farther down the table he was pleased to see that there were several other students wearing obviously new robes. One of them drew his attention, a bushy haired girl with slightly buck teeth who was waving her hands around animatedly at the boy sitting across from her. Looking away from Hermione Granger, his eyes wandered to the Slytherin table, to the students that his parents would expect him to be friends with. Two of the students looked especially thick in the head, one was a very pretty girl, and the last one that his eyes rested upon glared back at him. The tapping of a fork on a glass broke their eye contact.

"Attention," the headmaster stood up and walked to his podium. "Now that we have all filled our bellies, I want to formally welcome the first years. So, welcome first years! And welcome back to everybody else. I would also like to introduce you all to Professor Quirrell." A man wearing a purple turban stood and waved at the students. "He is our new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Now, some general rules: There is to be no student out of bed past curfew, the house elves will no longer be serving food to individuals in their common rooms, and the east hallway on the fifth floor is closed for renovations. Your class schedules will be awaiting you on your pillows. Everyone to bed now. Let's go."

The students shuffled out of their seats and made their ways out of the Great Hall. One of the Slytherin first years caught up with Draco. "Your father is going to murder you," he sneered. It was Blaise Zabini. On his other side was the boy with the scar, Harry Potter. He seemed slightly confused by the interaction, but followed Blaise's lead and scoffed at Draco. "You'll be disowned," he said, before Blaise and he went down a side staircase to the Slytherin common room.

Ron, who'd overheard the interaction, grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him out of the doorway. "Don't listen to them Slytherins. They're all a bunch of good-for-nothing daddy's boys who are too rich for their own good."

Draco was suddenly very conscious of his brand new robes and his family's lineage. He thought that Ron would've noticed his last name and known who he was immediately. All pureblood families knew each other, and the Weasley's and the Malfoy's weren't particularly friendly. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, holding onto the railing of a moving staircase.

"Yeah," Ron replied as he ate a muffin that he'd taken from dinner. "But I figure you're different, you know? If you wanted to be in Slytherin, that's where you'd be. Or at least that's what my brother Bill told me. So, you know, that must mean you don't want to be in Slytherin and worshipping You-Know-Who and participating in all that stuff."

Draco nodded, grateful for this boy's immediate acceptance of him.

"Though, if I were you," Ron continued, "I'd run away from home. Cause from what I've heard about your family, those boys were right."

Ron and Draco were interrupted when they reached the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady, the guardian of the tower, was singing, something that the older students said that she did quite frequently. Three different students had to yell "grindylow" at the same time before she even noticed that every Gryffindor student in the school was waiting to be let in.

Once in the common room, people began to introduce themselves, one by one, until they were interrupted by a large, jet black hour, flying into the room and dropping an envelope on the ground by Draco's feet.

_My dear son,_

_You have embarrassed both your father and I by being placed into Gryffindor. We have already tried contacting Dumbledore and have been told in no uncertain terms that you cannot transfer houses and that you must remain in Gryffindor for the remainder of your time at Hogwarts. This is simply unacceptable. Should you wish, you will be removed from Hogwarts and placed at Durmstrang where you will learn more acceptable material and be with students more like yourself._

_However, if you wish to remain at Hogwarts, it is intolerable that you become friends with any student in your own house. I believe that you remember Blaise Zabini from your childhood. He will make a very good friend for you in the future and when the time is right, the two of you can join your fathers at their sides in meetings of great importance._

Draco knew what his mother meant by meetings. It meant the torturing of half bloods and muggle-borns. It meant doing the world of the Dark Lord and being proud of it. Draco would have none of it.

_I have managed to talk your father out of any more drastic action and have assured him that you can take care of yourself and make the right decisions. He will be keeping an eye on you for the remainder of the year, after which we will determine whether or not Hogwarts is the correct school for your enrollment._

_Do your best,_

_Narcissa_

Shaking with fright and anger, Draco showed the note to Ron, who had been watching him worriedly. Ron read it furiously and wandered up to his room, muttering things about "Dumbledore" and "protective custody."

And then the best thing that happened to Draco all day occurred. The bushy haired girl, Hermione, approached him. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."


End file.
